


as soon as it starts, the screen goes dark

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, CC-1010 | Fox Needs A Hug, CC-1010 | Fox Whump, Clone Trooper-Typical Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Power Imbalance, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28020678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It starts— a bleary opening of his eyes, the dullness of his thoughts, the tell-tale feeling of floating that strong painkillers brought.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Implied Sly Moore/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

The first time Fox learns the consequences of not being right, he is a sense of duty intertwined with Tipoca City’s artificial light.

* * *

It starts— a bleary opening of his eyes, the dullness of his thoughts, the tell-tale feeling of floating that strong painkillers brought.

It starts— hands on his chest, on his sides, examining, poking, prodding, but without the clinical efficiency the Kaminoans employ, without the brusque respect the medics use. 

It starts when he's in a medbay, _the wrong medbay_ , drugged up to the gills, _the wrong drugs_ , and he can't feel his throat and it's _wrong, wrong, wrong_. It starts with stitches in his neck and a voice in his ears and the dim feeling of horror all around. It starts when all he can see is a bright, bright white.

It might have been a dream, except for the fact that there’s something deep down that argues otherwise. To Fox, it feels like it was a dream, like it happened miles and miles and miles away from him, to a different man, on a different plane of existence. 

He remembers waking up, injured, and a hand rubbing his back. He remembers being shushed when he tries to speak, pushed down when he tries to get up, told to _rest_. 

He remembers the hand on his chest, deceptively strong. Kind eyes, that meet his own, clear and cold, and just feel wrong. Fear, for what will happen if he doesn't obey those kind eyes, if he doesn't follow along. 

Fox follows along. Falls asleep when ordered. Would swear he felt a hand slip much too low right before unconsciousness claimed him. 

He's released the next day. None of the natborns at the facility will meet his eyes.

_Mistake_ , something within him whispers, cries, as he exits the hospital. _Mistake, mistake, you made a mistake and earned yourself some karking wall-to-wall counseling_. 

Nevermind that he can't remember what he did wrong, or what even _happened_ — he's sore, and he was in a natborn medbay, and the only people who he's subordinate to are natborns, so— it makes sense. Kind of. Maybe. In a karked up, roundabout way.

It does make sense. It has to. There's no other option.

The hardest thing is the night after he gets released from the natborn medbay. The hardest thing is living through the night he spends alone, the night before Naak literally trips over him and drags him to the Guard's medbay. 

Days later, there's no fear when he receives the comm message. Why would there be?

He's been to the Chancellor’s office a thousand times before. He'll be there a thousand times again. 

It's not until the door audibly locks behind him that it occurs to him to be wary. After all, he's not programmed to be wary, to disagree, to distrust. Ka'ra, it's not until the Red Guard shifts to cover the exits that it even occurs to him to be _worried._

Fox learns it quick enough. Fox learns fear, and dread, and distrust. He learns to bite the inside of his cheek and spread his legs and breath through his nose, learns what it truly means to be a clone, born to die and bred to serve. He learns wariness as quickly as he can, but on that very first night…

Well. That's irrelevant. No evidence of it exists outside his memory. He knows that. He made sure of that. Double and triple and quadruple checked it. Fox allows himself that much, that simple reassurance. 

When it happens again, he does not take the risk to grant himself that luxury. He wants to, Foce hells, he wants it more than he's wanted anything, but—

Fox does not take the risk, does not check. He does not check, because when he gets that second comm call, he is no longer unprepared. He is no longer naive. He is the furthest thing from trusting. He is not the man he was, the _shiny_ he was, a command clone straight from Kamino, shoved into a position and a world he doesn't understand, straight off the heels of his first and only battle. 

This is not wall-to-wall counseling. This is not punishment for a mistake he made, one he could avoid making again. This is a situation outside of his control. Fox learns, quickly, that he cannot prevent what will occur, but he can prevent his own surprise.

That will have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Wall-to-wall counseling: Used to describe the assault of a subordinate in response to poor performance and/or insubordination. 
> 
> \- "Navn, what the fuck? " I hear you all ask, and uhhhhhhh... you know what I've got no reply to that one. Anyway, I've been messing around with this one for months, and I've got like 10k of it, so we'll see where this ends up going. 
> 
> \- Please do forgive any formatting errors, I posted this on my phone lol. Listen, in my defense, my bed is REALLY comfy and my cat is asleep on top of me, so it would be a crime to move now.
> 
> \- CT-3033 | Naak is my clone trooper medic oc! She's the CMO of the Coruscant Guard, and her best friend is a medic named Quill, who will also probably end up showing up in this fic, lol.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

The first time Fox learns the consequences of not being right, Fox is ten, and he does not fight. 

* * *

Fox desperately,  _ desperately  _ needs a shower.

It's the one thought he can allow himself to have right now, so as he returns to his quarters, he revels in it, wraps it around his mind until it's all he is. Strips away the layers of  _ Commander  _ and  _ CC-1010 _ , wipes any thoughts of the last three hours from his mind. A shower. Maybe he'll even treat himself, and skip a sonic for the real deal. 

The cleaning droid throws a wrench in that idea.

It takes a moment for him to process the situation, a moment that's unacceptable, but he's much too drained to beat himself up over it. There's a cleaning droid, blocking his way into his room. It's attempting to get into his room, and failing miserably. Someone has drawn what appears to be a cartoon brother on one side of it, and he's grinning as he holds up a flag. On the other side there's a splash of red a shade darker than Coruscant Guard red, and a label, naming it "Commander Bacara."

Laughing at his batchmate, who is currently in an active war zone and risking his life for the Republic, would be in incredibly poor taste. Luckily, laughing sounds like actual torture to his throat, so it's a desire thats easy enough to push down. 

"You're an idiot, you know that, right?" Fox instead decides to inform the cleaning droid as it whirs helplessly at his door. His throat isn't all that fond of that move either, but, whatever. 

The cleaning droid doesn't seem to care about his comment, and keeps up its attempts to get into his room. It's an annoyingly Bacara-esque move.

More than that, it's an annoyance. It's an annoyance that he's  _ way _ too tired to deal with right now. Or ever.

"Oh, kriff's sake," he says, and gives up any futile hope that he's  _ not _ going to have a droid visitor in his quarters. Maybe he'll get lucky, and this one will have a bomb as well. Fox swipes his key card, lets it scan his armor, and finally punches in his passcode. The door to his quarters opens with a  _ whoosh _ , and the droid makes a happy, trilling noise before rolling on in, already back on the hunt for dirt. Unfortunately, it gives him no sign that indicates that it's planning on blowing him up.

It's not even going to have that great of a hunt here anyway. He hasn't spent enough  _ time _ in his quarters for them to get dirty. They look nearly identical to how they looked when he first moved in. Unless the droid is fond of the taste of dust, Droid Commander Bacara is joining him in the shit out of luck club. 

Now that's a depressing thought. 

He moves inside as well, pulling off his bucket to place on his desk as he methodically strips off his armor, and—

Kriffs sake. 

Something is bumping his foot.

Something small, and distinctly metal, is bumping his foot.

He knows this because it clangs off of his boot every time, letting out mournful little beeps right before it tries again. There's not enough force behind its pushing for him to actually be able to feel it through his boot, but  _ kriff _ , it's the principle of the thing. 

"I am going to throw you out," he threatens, ignoring the small flares of pain the words brought. "I am going to take you apart, sell you to a junkyard, and give your stupid kriffing power generators to Swan as a bribe so he stops complaining about food in his office."

Droid Commander Bacara beeps sadly at him, and bumps into his foot.

"Do you  _ want _ to be part of Swan's next accidental explosion?"

_ Force _ . He can barely feel his throat, the rest of his body is more bruise than flesh, and instead of showering he's arguing with a  _ kriffing droid _ . 

There's a brief flare of resentment in his gut— if he was out on the front lines, this wouldn't have happened, his throat would be fine and there would be no droid for him to argue with— but he dismisses it in seconds. He might not  _ know _ Thorn and Stone very well yet, but they absolutely don't deserve  _ this _ , and he's fully aware that if he was out on the front lines, one of them would be in his place. This is his duty. 

Fox knew the clones weren't truly human, were simple products created to die, but he doesn't truly internalize that fact until he arrives on Coruscant, and sees first hand how natborns treat their property. Maybe Droid Commander Bacara and him have more in common than he originally thought.

He sits down on the ground. He does not cry.

The droid beeps at him, and Fox allows himself the mercy of closing his eyes. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter-specific warnings are in the end notes!

* * *

The first time Fox learns the consequences of not being right, on his perfect record, there's a sudden blight.

* * *

The Chancellor is furious when he calls Fox in.

Fox learns this from Chief of Staff Moore, who draws him aside, and freezes him in place with the shimmer of her deathly pale eyes. She's as immaculately groomed as she always is, save for the bruise on her neck that her collar only partially covers, and Fox feels his stomach drop at the sight.

"He is angry," she says, foregoing any greeting. Her voice is low, hoarse, like it hasn't been used in a long, long time, and the part of Fox's brain that isn't frozen with dread notes dully that this is the first time he's ever heard her speak. "You'll want to clear your afternoon."

"I can't, sir," Fox replies, trying not to betray the fear that flashed through him with those words. By the way her eyes narrow, he's not successful. "I can't, I really can't, I have too much to do."

"Reassign it," she orders, voice brusque. "Do not tell him that you have to leave for any reason."

He opens his mouth to argue back further— and say _what_ , he does not know— but she turns on her heel and sashays away before he can, the conversation apparently done. And— and he doesn't _want_ to, but—

But she ordered him to. She ordered him to, and he's a good soldier. He follows his orders.

He pulls out his comm as he resumes his walk to the execution block, sends off a vague message to Thorn and Stone, makes himself ignore the creeping guilt that comes with it. They both have enough work on their plates already, they don't need this too, but—

He has orders. He follows orders. That's all there is.

The door to the Chancellor's office opens automatically, and two members of the Red Guard escort him in, weapons at the ready. The Chancellor looks up when they bring him to the center of the room, and Fox opens his mouth, but the glare Chancellor Palpatine levels his way stops him short.

There's no greeting. No introduction. No pleasantries. Fox fumbles, for a moment, at the break from routine, at the man in his face, but there are then hands on his hips, forcing him back to the present, a sudden invisible pressure on his neck, leaving him sputtering. Rage in kind eyes, and fear in his throat.

He's pushed backwards, and suddenly there's a wall at his back, and his head cracks painfully against it, jarring in it's intensity. Fox gulps, tries to get a breath of air, but his gasp is cut off by cold lips at his neck, and he tries not to cry instead.

He knows that the Red Guard is in the room. He knows that the Red Guard is _watching_. He knows that the Chancellor's windows are wide open, and bright light streams in from them, illuminating his shame, shining a spotlight on what both is and isn't a secret.

Are there people watching, out there? People with their necks craned upwards, witnessing his debasement? Will this encounter live and die in the minds of the Chancellor and his Guards, or are there natborns out there who will know of it too? Natborns, who will post blurry holos on their news forums, who will speculate about how good all of his vode are in bed? 

Fox can hear it in his mind right now, clear as day. A reporter's voice, speculating— _maybe the clone army_ **_does_ ** _have use beyond fighting and dying, after all, if the Chancellor of the Republic will settle for one, then they're probably all pretty good lays._

Is he damming his brothers who survive the war to an existence of _this_? Will he see Thorn or Stone get pulled away by the Red Guard, so they can test them, play, or worse, rent them out to whoever will pay?

Suddenly, there's a knee between his thighs and he's _choking_ , hands on his torso and he wants to scream. The pressure on his throat lets up for a moment as the hands grow more insistent, the feeling of his thumbs rubbing small circles down his sides torturous, and he screws his eyes shut. Palpatine makes a pleased sounding hum at that, and _bites_ down on his neck, causing him to both involuntarily flinch and moan.

Thank the Force that his blacks will cover that up. He doesn't want to know _what_ he'd say if someone asked him about it. 

Palpatine pushes him back further into the wall, ignoring his wince as his still-healing ribs hit the side of one of it's divots to drag a hand up, up his chest to his neck, and rest it there almost casually, his thumb moving to push up Fox's chin. The touch is slow moving, maddening, and Fox has to force himself not to rock into it.

Then he pushes down, _hard_ , against his trachea, and Fox is gasping, the shock of it forcing his eyes open. The Chancellor looks pleased, and Fox has just a moment to _hate_ before there's a mouth on his, pressure on his hips and his head is hitting the wall with a clunk. 

Any thoughts are pushed out of his mind with that, leaving him with just the feelings of desperation, despair, of want and willingness and wrath. There's a mouth on his, biting down, drawing blood, and he ruts up into Palpatine's grip as their teeth clash.

He wants _more_ and _less_ , wants the sweet nothingness of oblivion and the intensity of _this_ , wants life to make _sense_ again, like it did on Kamino.

He wants to be safe, with his brothers.

Force, he's pathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for non-explicit rape/non-con, non-consensual voyeurism, mentions of sexual slavery, mild violence, unwanted arousal, and sheev being a piece of shit.
> 
> Additional warning for discussion of underage rape, grooming, abuse and manipulation in the rest of this author's note, re. Sly Moore and Sheev Palpatine
> 
> So, considering the fact that Sly was a teenager when Maul kidnapped her and locked her in that Sith tomb, and Palpatine then "found" her a few months later and took her in to "help her recover", I think it's pretty safe to say that he was absolutely grooming her. I also personally think that he started sexually abusing her around this time, as he really isolated her well— she's probably presumed dead on Umbara, she's heavily traumatized from _living in a freaking Sith Tomb for six months_ , she has natural Force instincts that could be useful to him, and she already sees him as her "savior". Keeping her around him almost 24/7, and making it so that she only really talks to him isolates her further, and leaves her leaning solely on him.
> 
> At this point in the story, Sly is loyal to Palpatine and to his plans. Her warning to Fox is a combination of self-preservation— if Fox doesn't piss Palpatine off any further, he'll probably be nicer to her next time she sees him— and a genuine desire to help— she thinks Palpatine deserves the best, and she remembers being young and constantly fucking things up and Palpatine was always so disappointed when he had to punish her, so if she preemptively stops Fox from fucking up, Palpatine won't have to be disappointed. 
> 
> … Yeah, it's a fucked up situation. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!! Please do leave a comment, I'd love to hear what you think!


End file.
